


With my hand on your Grease Gun

by rainftw



Series: Married at first sight [2]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25593928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainftw/pseuds/rainftw
Summary: The first time they sleep together, and Roger steals John's hoodie.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Series: Married at first sight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855069
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	With my hand on your Grease Gun

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to add some of those relationship milestones as fics on the side and make this into a little mini-series tihi. Hope you enjoy<3 
> 
> (I'm SO sorry about the title. I'm running out of ideas.)

It had been a full month since John had walked into the tiny practice space for an audition. Sauntered into the room with a quiet but sturdy demeanour and had succesfully played his way into the band. With long, elegant fingers playing over thick bass-strings convincingly enough to worm its way into Roger’s very soul.

If that wasn’t dramatic enough, when John had finished playing and looked up at Roger from beneath hooded eyes, Roger’s heart had skipped so hard he had to subtly take his wrist pulse to be sure it had gone back to normal. It had, thankfully. But only barely.

It had been dramatic enough to have Roger red in the face as he asked for his number that very same day. Not even composed enough to have come up with a lie as to why he was so flustered.

John had looked him up and down with a quirked eyebrow and scribbled down his numbers for him. On his _forearm_. John’s grip on Roger’s wrist had stayed as a phantom burning imprint for the rest of the day. Roger had managed to compose himself enough to postpone the call for another day.

Opting for smiling up at the ceiling in bed like an idiot instead. Writing a soppy paragraph about crushes and clutching his journal to his chest.

It had taken Roger a day and a half to call John and ask him to hang out.

He’d hung up the phone with a promise to pick him up at 10pm. Pacing about his flat, thinking about what to wear and taking an extra shower, just in case. Before heading out the door.

Roger had sat down in his car and bounced his leg the whole way there, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Maybe it’d turn out to be a great song one day.

They’d driven around town, Roger picking John up at his place with a racing heart. They’d rolled the windows down and sung too loudly to the radio. It was dumb and John’s singing was completely off-key but Roger hadn’t had _that_ fun in a long time. And Roger has a talent for entertaining himself, so that says a lot.

He’d parked the car in a random store’s parking lot at arse-o-clock, somewhere between midnight and early morning, and offered John a cigarette. He’d taken it from Roger outstretched hand, let Roger light it for him and taken a long drag, which was such a sight it made Roger clench his thighs.

Then he had coughed for a solid five minutes straight which had Roger giggling like a manic while John shouted profanities in his face.

It was easy, hanging out with John. In Roger’s car and in the practice room.

So yeah, a month. It had been a month of driving around, easy flirting and a sexual tension in the air that neither one of them had the guts to break just yet.

Until one night when Roger rolled to a stop outside of John’s flat, put the car in park and pulled his seat back, looking John straight in the eyes and momentarily forgetting how to breathe.

“So,” Roger started, dragging it out.

He really, really didn’t want to end the night here. He hoped John didn’t either.

“Yeah, do you want to,” John gestured around with his hands, looking at Roger uncertainly. “You know.”

Roger couldn’t be happier. In his haste to put John out of his misery he grabbed his hand and squeezed it to the rhythm his heart was pacing. “Thought you’d never ask.”

John released a long breath and met Roger’s smiling eyes with his own. Roger couldn’t resist pulling a silly face just to make John laugh, it was as much for selfish reasons as it was tension-diffusing. Partly just wanting to see the gap between his teeth and partly to set John at ease.

“Lead the way.”

Roger didn’t know what he had expected John’s flat to look like but it was _tiny_. Kitchen, living and bedroom in the same space. John had declared as much, apologetically.

“It’s not much, but” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Roger didn’t want John to be nervous. Especially not around him.

“It’s perfect.” It was a blatant lie and more of a sentiment to make John stop worrying so much.

John wasn’t gullible but took the comment for what it was and closed the door behind them.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Roger declared with a grin, plonking himself down in the middle of John’s bed. Which was, quite frankly, the highlight of his apartment. It was a _double_ and extremely comfortable. Roger could see them having a lot of fun in it.

John was stood by the small kitchen counter, playing with a ring on his finger. It dawned on Roger how much different it was to actually hang out in one of their flats than in a moving vehicle, somehow. Because here they actually had the option to act upon _whatever_ it was between them. Roger surely knew what he wanted to do.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” John asked politely. Almost too politely to Roger’s ears, like he was asking as a formality, to someone he barely knew. That wouldn’t do.

“John?” Roger spoke softly, trying to get his attention. Get him to snap out of it.

Their eyes met across the room. Roger couldn’t help but to smile, his brain was apparently wired to smile whenever he looked at John now and it felt _great_. What felt even better was when John smiled in return, body visibly relaxing.

“Come here?” Roger said, scooting over and patting the empty spot on bed next to him.

John stood still for a couple seconds, long enough for Roger to start panicking about whether he’d read the situation wrong. It couldn’t be. A couple months from now, Roger would learn that this was just John and he’d love him for his careful nature.

Roger regarded him with careful eyes. John didn’t tense up, didn’t reject him, just stood there and watched him back. Until he smiled cheekily and the atmosphere seemed to change, just like that. It was so easy once all the firsts had been done. The walls crumbling. Roger was sure he’d let his emotions show sooner than he’d want.

“Yeah.” John said, with ease. Walking over and situating himself next to Roger.

Roger who was now sat up with his back against the wall, John on his side next to him, head propped up on one of his large, ( _very large_ , very nice) hands. Roger looked down upon him and carded his fingers through John’s hair like he’d always been meant to do it. Watched as John sighed softly and closed his eyes at the sensation. Roger swooned just that little bit more.

John laid his head down on top of Roger’s thigh and - Roger was only _human_. Human and unfortunately (or fortunately), the young male with a well developed libido, type of human. You add to that equation - having the sweetest, most charming, boy resting on top of your thighs, and you do the maths.

“Rog?” John murmured against the denim of Roger’s jeans.

Roger tried not to shiver and hummed in response. Tightening his fingers in John’s hair before resuming to massage his scalp.

“I really like you.” He almost whispered, out into thin air.

Roger’s heart suddenly made itself known by thumping its way through his very chest. He felt so elated he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was barely thinking clearly when he leaned down to place a delicate kiss upon John’s cheekbone. Wasn’t surprised in the slightest that his skin was as soft as Roger had imagined.

“I don’t know if I’ve been too subtle or something,” Roger started talking. Breath catching in his throat when John turned around to look at him. “But I really like you, too.”

“Yeah?” John asked for confirmation. Roger didn’t know how someone could be that clueless when Roger had been blatantly trying to date him for the past month.

Roger didn’t know if he was imagining things but it seemed as if John’s eyes were almost glittering. Roger had had crushes before, or at least he thought he did, until now. He didn’t know if the butterflies would ever stop their bloody fluttering. If the breath stuck in his throat would ever dislodge. Or if he’d ever stop craving John’s company. He hoped it would never stop.

“A lot.” Roger said, tucking a strand of hair behind John’s ear and cupping his cheek in his palm. “I like you, a lot.”

It felt like an understatement.

Something clicked between them and as John licked his lips it was so easy for Roger to lean down. Capturing John in a firm, reassuring kiss. His back be damned from the awkward angle. John’s lips moving against his own more than made up for the possibility of a dislodged vertebrae.

John kissed him carefully, delicate little pecks at first. Little kisses between two smiling lips. Roger felt like he was floating. Until John opened his mouth, letting Roger’s tongue slip inside and Roger had never felt more grateful for anything in his life. He wanted more.

Kissing John was so easy and natural and he could probably do it for the rest of his life.

Hence why they ended up losing track of time into each other’s mouths and Roger found himself with a lapful of John Deacon half an hour later, snogging the life out of him. They’d barely parted for breath, when they did they were both panting heavily and Roger was rendered speechless for once. Because John looked like _that_.

His hair was an absolute _mess_ from where Roger had tangled his fingers through it. His eyes were heavy lidded and there was a rosy flush spread high upon his cheekbones. Not to mention his kiss swollen, red, shiny lips. Roger’s heart was racing and his cock was straining against the seam of his trousers.

“Wow.” John said, breathlessly.

Roger couldn’t more than agree. “Wow” must’ve been the understatement of the century.

“Fuck, do you wanna,” Roger spoke hastily. Couldn’t help but to rut his hips into John’s arse. He’d been hard and aching for way too long.

“Fuck?” John finished for him, having the audacity to giggle.

Roger’s head was spinning. The weight of John on top of his thighs seemed to be the only thing grounding him.

“Yeah?” Roger rasped out, he still sounded absolutely breathless to his own ears.

John nodded, moving his hips in tiny circles, making their clothed erections rub together. Roger tugged at the hem of John’s shirt impatiently, eager to see more of him. To see all of him.

Roger was so hurried in his heady state of arousal that he’d managed to take John’s shirt and jeans off before he could think, flipping them around until he had John spread out underneath him. Was in the middle of hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, brain short-circuiting at the sight of John’s straining cock beneath the white fabric.

There was a wet spot visible at the head, making them see-through. Roger’s mouth watered, despite the fact that he’d never sucked cock before. He leaned down to place a kiss on top of the soaked fabric, to test the waters, and sate his own curiosity. John was squirming around at this point, hips bucking with a life of their own.

There were hands in his hair at first, Roger thought he saw a hint for a hint and finally started to drag the boxers down John’s legs. Then there was a sharp tug, forcing him to look at John’s flushed face. At his eyes that seemed to somehow be wide and clouded over at the same time.

“Hi.” John breathed out in between heavy breaths. He looked so good Roger had to fight tooth and nail to maintain his composure.

“Hi.” Roger repeated back, puzzled. “Are you alright?” He added, starting to trace his fingers along the smooth skin of John’s lower abdomen. Watching as his hand followed along with John’s hurried breaths, and a deep steadying one.

“Yeah, I-“ John swallowed heavily, Adams apple bobbing right in front of Roger’s face as he’d managed to scoot himself up and drape across John’s body. “I’m okay.” He continued.

“Are you sure?” Roger asked, stroking his thumb back and forth across John’s cheek. Grateful when he leaned into the touch, it was reassuring somehow. He felt trusted.

“Yes, I just wanted to, you know-“ John blabbered, tangling his hand back into Roger’s hair from where he had placed them on the bed. “I just wanted to be honest with you.”

Roger’s breath stopped for a second as he processed that. Searching John’s face for discomfort.

“What do you mean?” Roger asked, thumb resuming the back and forth motion against the apple of John’s soft, rosy cheek. Leaning into John’s hand in his own hair, in the feeling of their chests pressed together.

“I’ve never actually done this before.” John mumbled, face becoming increasingly warmer beneath Roger’s touches.

Roger’s heart stuttered at the admission, for whatever reason. He hoped John couldn’t feel the irregular flutter against his own bony ribs.

“John-“

“It’s not a big deal.” John cut him off, “I just thought you ought to know.”

Roger mulled it over in his head. Taking deep, steadying breaths, trying to get John to match them. To feel as in tune as they do with their instruments in front of them, instinctively playing to the same beat. He let his thumb run from John’s cheek to his bottom lip, tracing the red skin over and over until he messed up the pattern of John’s breathing again.

“It’s not a big deal.” Roger repeated back at John, even though something in his chest tugged sharply at the thought of being John’s first. He couldn’t help but to notice how John was still hard and rubbing his hips up against Roger’s thigh. “I just want to make you feel good, if you don’t mind.”

John groaned and rocked his hips up, deliberately this time. “Please.”

Roger didn’t need more convincing than that. He took his time dragging his own shirt over his head, smugness settling in his very bones as John’s breathing grew more and more laboured the more of Roger’s skin was revealed.

Roger loved being naked in front of other people, it had the promise of a good time coming and made his blood simmer hotly beneath the surface of his skin. He also loved seeing other people naked, exploring their bodies and figuring out how to make them fall apart beneath his hands.

Settling himself on top of John’s thighs, though, his dick was straining against his stomach and his balls were drawn so tight he felt like one gust of air would make him come immediately. And don’t even get him started on the sight of John beneath him. Roger could barely look at him in fear of finishing too quickly.

He placed his hands on John’s shoulders, where his collarbones were poking through and leaned forward, forward, forward. Until the tips of their noses were touching and they looked silly staring at each other from this up close. Stealing the air out of each other’s mouths. Calming down for a few seconds, spare from both their hips that just wouldn’t seem to stop moving on their own accord. John’s hips circling up into the backs of his thighs no matter how hard Roger squeezed down.

Roger leant down and pressed his lips firmly to John’s, the tingle that went from his lips, resonated within his entire chest and filled his cock out even more. It was starting to ache at this point, John’s little breathless gasps didn’t help with that.

John’s tongue dipped into Roger’s mouth and all the blood rushed from his head. He kissed John back filthily, nibbling at his bottom lip and licking his way around his mouth. Hands wandering past his stiff nipples, his trembling stomach and around his leaking erection.

“Ah,” John threw his head back, forcing their lips apart. A glistening string of saliva ran down the length of John’s throat as he bared it for Roger’s lips to latch onto. So he did, sucked and nibbled on the skin of John’s throat, working his way up to the thin, sensitive skin behind his ear. The noises John made were making Roger’s brain leak out of his ears.

He sped his pace up around John’s cock, his own heart pounding so hard it made his whole body shake. All the while John was flailing with his hands, trying to find purchase in Roger’s hair, down the planes of his back and against his chest. Making these noises that sounded like they were being punched out of him.

Roger lifted his face from where it was buried into John’s throat and caught one of his wandering hands, dragging it down his own flat stomach and wrapping it around his own cock. All the while keeping a look at John’s face, watching as his eyes fluttered open as his hand closed around Roger’s cock. Giving it an experimental tug while keeping Roger’s gaze. A gasp was drawn immediately from Roger’s throat, which made John grin in return, gaining confidence. It was so sexy.

Roger squeezed up the length of John and thumbed at the head teasingly in return. To spur John on to continue making the noises that Roger was growing addicted to.

“I’m close, Rog, I’m so close.” John gasped out in between whines and heavy breaths.

Roger allowed himself to _really_ look and felt his cock twitch embarrassingly obvious in John’s hand. John’s hair was haloed out across the white pillow under his head, his face scrunched up in pure bliss and a sheen of sweat was covering his entire torso. Which was absolutely heaving and trembling.

Roger had seen people in this state before but he’d never been _in love_ with any of them and it felt a lot different this time. A lot more intense.

“John, John,” Roger slowed down his pace around John in an attempt to make him regain some composure. “Look at me, please.” Roger panted out.

John did as he was told, his heavy lidded eyes meeting Roger’s, who could feel his abdomen tightening up with heat. That’s it, that’s definitely it, he was close now.

“Want you to see me when you come.” Roger spoke breathlessly, slowly starting to stroke John again. John who hadn’t stopped his pace around Roger, this was going to end extremely abruptly. “Want you to look at me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” John panted, squeezing the hand that wasn’t around Roger’s straining erection around the fleshy part of Roger’s hip. “I can do that.”

The next minute was a rush of hands moving so fast they seemed blurry, watching each other panting heavily and letting out involuntary noises. Roger couldn’t believe how good John was making him feel. The build-up felt as though it had been going on forever and he was going to snap any second.

“I’m coming John, I’m coming.”

He held off for another few seconds. Listening to the filthily loud noises of slick hands moving over hot skin.

“Me too.” John whined, eyes rolling back into his head and lips falling slack.

That was all it took. Roger stopped holding back and let himself go, vision completely blacking out as stars swirled about his vision. His pulse pounding loudly in his ears and raw pleasure running from the pit of his abdomen through the rest of his body.

It was intense. The aftershocks making him dizzy as he tried to calm himself down. Tried to see the mess they’d made of each other. Both of their come had spurted across John’s torso, across his chest and was left pooling in his bellybutton. Some of it had even splattered across his face. He looked an absolute sight.

“Oh god.” John whispered, wiping come from the corner of his mouth.

Roger couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Shut up! You’re not the one with come all over your face!” John exclaimed dramatically. Which in turn, naturally, just made Roger laugh even more.

“Oh, I’d let you come on my face, alright.” Roger winked.

“You’re gross.” John said, despite his cheeks being aflame and his lips tugging upwards.

“And you,” Roger bopped John’s nose with his pointer finger. “Really like me.”

John rolled his eyes and giggled quietly, grabbing Roger’s hand and hugging it underneath his chin. “God help me. But I really do.”

Roger spent the night creepily staring at a sleeping John. Chest filling and filling and filling until he though it’d surely explode if it wasn’t for the comforting weight of John’s head resting upon it. He’d traced the slope of his nose and the curve of his cupids bow, attempting to calm his heart down. It didn’t work, and he didn’t care.

He’d take an insatiably racing heart if it meant feeling this ridiculously happy. Falling asleep with his nose buried into the top of John’s head, breathing in the scent of his shampoo as if it was more important than oxygen.

He’d woken John up with a kiss to his plush lips, to which he had wrinkled his nose and complained about morning breath. Roger had genuinely never seen anything that cute.

If he’d stolen one of John’s big hoodies on his way out the door and driven his way to university while sniffing the inside of the hood with a ridiculous love-stricken grin on his face the entire way there. Well, no one needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> ALRIGHT ALRIGHT,  
> This scenario came to me Suspiciously easy. Hence why I think it's somehow worse than any other little fic I've ever written? (please tell me if this phenomena has happened to u wtf jijsijfs.)  
> I'm smoochy when it comes to this pairing but this is a whole new level, I'm sorry about the very bad realism in characterisation but this is the way it went in my head and I had to let it OUT you know! Hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading.<3


End file.
